Dad

Nothing. I edged my big toe onto the puddle of milk spreading over the floor. The gallon jug was so light. 

I KNOW IT WASN'T FUCKING NOTHING WHY CAN'T YOU JUST BE QUIET I'M ON THE PHONE. JESUS FUCKING CHRIST I WISH I COULD JUST LEAVE YOU HERE WITH YOUR MOM. 

Saturdays suck - I drew on my palm with a black pen. 

"What's wrong? Why you locked up in here?"

He wasn't bad. He didn't hit me or kick me out or make me work on a farm. He didn't desert me at my graduation or prom or national  honor society ceremony. He made me scared. He made me fearful of being yelled at even at the age of 25. He made me remember the sentence "Life's not fair". He made me a mouse. He made me happy. He made me wish I was dead.